By any other name
by idiot nr 72056
Summary: *When this all began. . .We knew there'd be price to pay Too late now To turn away We have come so far. . .* Mutants are known to the world. How will this affect the lifes of the different teens? Pre Mainstream. Contains slash! (I'm back! Hurrah?)
1. When the Going Gets Tuff, the Tuff Gets ...

Warning!!!: Now pay attention, 'cause I will only do this once (unless something changes). This story will contain some slash. Boys liking boys, girls liking girls, because I am a firm believer of the fact that almost everybody's bisexual. So if you have a problem with this, please leave now. Thank you! Here will also be bad language. I mean, come on, they're teenagers, and teenagers swear. I am a seventeen-year old girl, and I use bad language. The fact that I'm seventeen also means that there will be some more mature things coming up. Not that I'm mature on anything, but still. There will be angst. Eventually. I will try to keep the rating at PG- 13, but I can't promise anything. And tell me if the rating's wrong, I'm not very used to the ratings here. Also, there might be (ah, screw that, there -will- be) some character-bashing here. People will be trashed talked by other people (if you really could call 'em people since they're fictional and all). This is by no means my own opinion, but rather how I think they will react in different situations. Oh! And mentioning of alcohol. But you shouldn't drink, because drinking's bad, m'kay? So don't drink! But there will be alcohol popping up in this story. Even under-age drinking. Yeah.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I think Marvel owns X-Men. *shrugs*. All I know is that it's not me. Original characters belong to respective creators. You want a list? Mail me. idiot_nr_72056@hotmail.com.I almost own a laptop, but it has a screwy a-tangent. So there might be some a-s missing (no, not ass.).  
  
Author's Notes: This fic takes place right before "Mainstream". Since this is the last episode I've seen (I don't count "Stuff of Villains", because my version didn't have any frickin' -sound-! And it wouldn't fit into my story.) I will disregard of the things happening later. I don't really know what happens later, actually. So Evan will be in the story (haha, you won't get rid of him here!), and the Acolytes are one team while the Brotherhood are another (still lead by Mystique. C'mon, we all -know- she could easily avoid getting caught, with her shape-shifting abilities and all.). And because I feel like it, Rahne and Jubilee are also here. Tabitha's with the X-Men, because I don't want her with the Brotherhood and she did stand around with the rest of the X-Men in the end of that episode where . . . they all stood around in the end. Yes. Gambit, Colossus and Pyro will have personalities made up entirely by me (No! Run fer ya lives!), but feel free to come with pointers.  
  
  
  
  
  
On with the story  
  
  
  
  
  
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When this all began. . .  
  
We knew there'd be price to pay  
  
Too late now  
  
To turn away  
  
We have come so far. . .  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter one.  
  
  
  
  
  
Raven Darkholme, commonly referred to as Mystique, did not like kids. Not babies, not little children, and most definitely -not- teenagers. The only one she was willing to make an exception for was her own son, and that was partly because of the fact that they hardly ever met. Luckily she wasn't working as a principal anymore, but she still lived in the same house as four teenagers. Who had fewer things to do than teenagers should be allowed to have, since they weren't going to school anymore. Mystique would have gotten rid of them a long time ago, but they were needed to get revenge on Magneto (as well as Cyclops who had ascended on her list after the incident at Area 51) and thus, she couldn't throw them out. No matter how tempting it was, especially at times like these.  
  
"What the -hell- happened to my bed!?!?!"  
  
The house suddenly went dead quiet, except for the angry "I'm pissed of at the world, leave me alone or -die-" music blaring out from Wanda's room. Mystique stormed down the stairs trying to locate the soon-to-be-horribly- punished boys.  
  
"Hold it right there!" she yelled, noticing that the boys in question was trying to escape through the front door as fast as possible. All three of them froze, slowly turning around, plastering innocent smiles on their faces.  
  
"Hi boss lady!" Todd said overly cheerful while his eyes kept darting around looking for escape routes. "Uh. . . we were just. . . uh. . ."  
  
"Going to work!" Lance said, not coming up with anything better. Mystique fought the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes. After all, it would destroy her Royally-Pissed-Off Evil!Bitch!Boss! image.  
  
"Despite the fact that we get less and less money every day, neither of you brats bothers getting a job. You have no reason to leave at this precise moment. So explain why my bed looks like it does! Now!!!"  
  
"Well. . . It's all Lance's fault! I had nothing to do with it, yo!"  
  
"My fault?! It wasn't my idea with the paint and the feathers!"  
  
"But it was you that suggested using it as a trampoline!"  
  
" . . . Freddy sat on it!"  
  
"Hey, you leave me out of this or I'll sit on you!"  
  
"Enough!!!" Mystique yelled, feeling a slight headache the size of Alaska approaching. "Get out! Leave! Now!!!"  
  
"What?" The boys looked slightly bewildered. Or, as Mystique would have put it, more idiotic than usual.  
  
"You heard me! Leave! If you value your pathetic little lives even the slightest, you go out that door and doesn't come back!"  
  
"You're kicking us out?" Lance asked. "Come on, you can't be serious!"  
  
"I am not kicking you out," Mystique explained with all the patience of an aggravated shark. "I am merely getting rid of you until the need to strangle you all has died down a little."  
  
Despite what most people believed (and what their grades suggested), the Brotherhood Boys wasn't stupid. So after their beloved boss had delivered her charming little speech, and started ascending towards them with a look on her face that'd fit right in in a Stephen King movie, they did the only logical thing. They ran.  
  
Of course, they didn't run very far. After all, running wasn't something the Blob liked doing. Plus, the jeep was right there, waiting for them.  
  
"Damn, she's pissed for real this time, yo," Todd said, jumping into the front seat.  
  
"Of course she is, you totally destroyed her bed," Lance muttered, taking place behind the wheel.  
  
"It wasn't all my fault, and you know it. And what the hell are we going to do now?"  
  
"We'll get her some alcohol," Lance decided after thinking for a little while.  
  
"Right, 'cause the only thing better than a murderous insane boss lady, is a -drunken- murderous insane boss lady," Fred said, having taking residence in the backseat.  
  
"Yup!" Lance grinned. "You know how sentimental she gets sometimes when she's drunk. It can work out. Or we could get something to drink and keep it to ourselves, and just stay away from here the nearest weeks."  
  
"Whatever we'll do, we should get outta here before Boss Lady decides to check her closet," Todd suggested, getting twitchy from only thinking about the consequences of being near Mystique when that event occurred. Lance also got a slightly nervous look on his face when he remembered what had happened to it, something he managed to forget due to the bed-incident.  
  
"Yeah, fuck, she'll kill us for real when she finds out," he said. "Well, it's settled then, let's go get drunk!" He started the car and drove out on the road, while Todd muttered something about not watching TV while on a sugar high ever again.  
  
  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
  
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AN: Uh, yeah. First chapter. Yay! *makes a happy little dance*. So what do ya think? Was it good? Huh? Huh? Come on, it's only the beginning of the story. And the ending of this chapter sucks, I know. So, yeah. Review! Tell me how it is!  
  
And sorry for the long wait. I had half of this written (or something like that) and then ff.net deleted the other "story" (which didn't -really- mattered, but still.), and something not funny happened to me personally. I hate real life. Ick. So, terribly sorry, I got depressed and just wanted to write angsty stories. And this will not be a superangsty story. Probably. And this didn't make very much sense, but who cares. And then ff.net decided to delete my entire account. So this is actually a re-post.  
  
Well. It was kinda short, I know. I originally had an X-Men-part and an Acolytes-part planned for this chapter, but they ended up sucking bad. So I have to rewrite them. They'll be in the next chapter. Probably. Along with some new guys! Yay! But, school stinks and has decided to torment me further by giving me way more homework than anyone should have, so it might take me some time to finish it. Plus, I'm sick! *coughcough*. And mildly depressed. But the more reviews I'll get, the faster I'll write! *hinthint*  
  
And -please- give me suggestions to the title. I'm not too happy about this one. Suggestions for the plot are also welcome. I have -some- idea where I'm going with this, but not completely.  
  
Well, gotta go. After all, I've got places to go, chapters to write, chocolate to eat, and people to disturb.  
  
See ya! 


	2. Back to the Titanic? Whatever

Aww, you guys are too kind! So many nice reviews . . . which makes me feel bad about bringing you the-chapter-that's-so-bad-and-pointless-I-want-to- kick-myself-in-the-head. Yes, most people will prolly stop reading after this one. *sigh* I blame this on the fact I can't listen to "Road Trippin'" anymore, because of a crappy CD-player. First Ebba Grön, now Red Hot Chili Peppers. Where has the world come to? And ff.net decided to delete my account -again-!!! Do they have a personal vendetta against me or something? They get some blame for this chapter, too. And they get -all- the blame for the bad grade I'll probably get for my sucky moral-speech at school. But, anything good in here are all for you wonderful wonderful people out there! And it -will- get better (I hope)!!!  
  
Please bear with me trying to write Rogue's accent. And other accents. You know, in the eps I've seen, Rogue didn't speak with an accent. And Kitty didn't say "Like" a single time. And Todd didn't say "Yo!". *sigh* Ah, maybe I'm just deaf. But Piotr sounded Russian! Yay! I just don't know if that's written any special way. And Kurt -did- sound German in at least one ep, but I'll prolly write his accent completely wrong. Oh well.  
  
And I personally like Marilyn Manson. Just so you know.  
  
Anyway.  
  
  
  
  
  
Proudly (*cough*not*cough*) presenting: The first X-Men part!  
  
  
  
  
  
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Chapter 2  
  
  
  
  
  
"Hi Rogue!" Kitty Pryde's overly happy voice somehow drowned out the sound of Marilyn Manson that was blasting from Rogue's CD player. Or rather, the shared CD player that was the only one that existed in the area of the former mansion. Rogue had managed to steal it from Kurt, who had, for some unknown reason, played the Titanic-soundtrack nonstop since nine in the morning. The Goth decided to ignore Kitty at the moment, instead concentrating very hard on painting her nails black. Which was sort of pointless, since they were soon to be covered by her ever-present gloves again. Kitty pouted, not too happy about being neglected.  
  
"Scott told me to tell you to turn down the volume. He says it's depressing everybody. And giving him a headache." Rogue glared at the younger girl who seemed determined to interrupt her personal time.  
  
"It ain't mah fault it's so crowded here."  
  
"Well, of course it isn't. But we've all gotta make sacrifices, so can't you, like, lay of the suicide-music 'til the mansions rebuilt? The Professor said it wouldn't take -that- much longer."  
  
"It's already taken too long," Rogue muttered. "Ah mean, there's twenty of us livin' in this tiny space. And even now they're movin' more kids here."  
  
Kitty got a look on her face that was saying 'It's our duty to take care of the less fortunate mutants out there, even if we doesn't really have a house at the moment'.  
  
"You know Rogue, we're luckier than most other mutants, and it's our duty to . . ."  
  
"Ah know, ah know," Rogue interrupted. She got more and more homicidal feeling with each minute spent so close with all the others. Maybe ah should just go join the Brotherhood again. Ah bet their house's not even half as crowded as it is here. Of course, then ah would have to deal with Mystique . . . But since Scott left her behind at Area 51, she's probably not even there, so it would . . .  
  
Rogue's train of though got of track when Alexander Griton half-fell into the tiny closet-like room.  
  
"Mr McCoy just took refugee to the lower levels," she informed the two younger girls, while flipping her shoulder length silver-colored, blue- tipped hair away from her face and shooting a annoyed look out the door. "Ya scared him off with the music, Rogue. And Kurt sent me to take back the CD player." The Goth just glared a little in return.  
  
"No one appreciates good music anymore. And ah swear to God, if Kurt plays 'My heart will go on' one more time, -his- heart won't go on that much longer."  
  
"Hey Zander," Kitty spoke up, ignoring Rogue's death threats. After all, she was used to them after sharing a room with the antisocial teen for a longer period of time. "Were there any sign of the Professor and the others?"  
  
"Nah, Professor Xavier an' Wolverine are still away doin' whatever they went to do, and Storm an' that kid Evan are still in New York, talkin' to Evan's parents. Ya think they'll let him stay here?" Zander asked with some 'I think Evan's an egotistical jerk, but I still care. A little.'-not- really-concern.  
  
"Of course," Kitty replied. "I mean, Storm managed to convince -my- parents that I'm safer here, and Evan's her nephew, so it'll be easy. But I wonder what the Professor and Mr Logan's up to. It all seems very . . . strange. And secret."  
  
"They're prolly just tryin' to recruit some more mutants or somethin'," Rogue muttered, wanting to be left alone. She'd had more than enough of socializing for the day. If the other girls didn't leave soon, the Goth would probably do something that she wouldn't regret -completely-, but that would get her into trouble none the less. And since Kitty and Zander was more tolerable than some of the other students, it might cause some consequences besides kitchen duty for two weeks. Like being driven insane from listening to Jean complaining about her dilemma with Duncan and Scott, or be forced to go shopping (dear God, no!) with Jubilee, or even having to spend time in the same room as Amara. After all, socializing -was- an important part of life at the Xavier institute, no matter how forced it could be at times.  
  
So, Rogue blew at her nails, checked to see that the nail polish was completely dry, and then proceeded to put on her gloves again and sitting on her hands so that she wouldn't be too tempted to use her powers. Because that would be a Very Bad Thing.  
  
And that was never good.  
  
  
  
~#~#~#~#~(it's not over yet! wow!)~#~#~#~#~  
  
  
  
"You think she killed them?"  
  
Kurt Wagner glanced at Bobby Drake, then back at the door through which their newest recruit had went a while ago. Shortly after Kitty had gone in there to make the horrible sounds of Marilyn Manson come to an end. But the music (if it could be called that) still blared, and neither of the girls had exited the room yet.  
  
"I don't know," he answered truthfully. The Goth had been in a pretty crappy mood lately, so anything was possible, really. He and Bobby had figured Rogue would be at least a little friendlier to a fellow southerner, and since Sam was at the movies with Ray, Rahne, Jubilee and Tabitha, they had nicely tried to persuade Zander to convince Rogue to hand back the CD player to Kurt. Of course, since Zander didn't really minded Marilyn Manson (even if she'd rather listen to Linkin Park or Avril Lavigne herself), Kurt and Bobby were forced to throw the girl into the room, hoping she would come to her senses when confronted directly with the awful noise, and thus bring out the much wanted CD player.  
  
Bobby sighted. -He- didn't really care who got to play their favorite music, but he was bored. And mildly pissed off, since the others had left for the movies without him, just because he'd slept a little longer than usual. And (he'd been told by a weird-acting Kurt) thrown his pillow on Sam when the older mutant had tried to wake him up, also threatening to reveal just who Sam was having a crush on if he wasn't left alone. So maybe it was understandable, after all. But it still pissed him off.  
  
"I think she killed them," the Popsicle revealed, immediately starting to scheme sleeping rearrangements so that he would eventually end up with a room of his own. Kurt frowned.  
  
"Zen zere's only one option left," the fuzzy one said, and *bamf* he was gone. The sudden lack of music and loud yell that followed shortly after suggested just where he had gone (or, rather, ported) to.  
  
"KURT!!!"  
  
Kurt reappeared next to Bobby again, much like a magician from a kiddie's show, minus the cape and magic wand, and plus a CD player. The blue mutant was actually wearing a black magician's hat, but Bobby had no idea why. He hadn't really wanted to know, which was why he hadn't bothered asking when first seeing Kurt that day. It probably had something to do with the blue mutant's newfound love for the Titanic-soundtrack.  
  
While Bobby pondered Kurt's weird clothing style, the door flew up and a furious Rogue stormed out, aiming in on the thieving teen. The teen in question emitted a rather unmanly shriek and ported farther away from the Goth, but for some unknown reason still remaining in the same room. Bobby jumped out of the way in the last second when Rogue lounged at Kurt, narrowly escaping being clubbed down by the angry girl.  
  
Not really interested in seeing Kurt get his ass kicked, Bobby walked past Zander and Kitty (both very much alive) who were watching the drama unfold from the bedroom doorway. He left the room, desperate for something at least slightly normal. Maybe there was something good on the TV.  
  
  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
  
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Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. Alexander Griton belongs to Spitfire. And in case you didn't know, I don't own Titanic either. Or Marilyn Manson. Suing me will do no good, since I live in Sweden.  
  
Stupid spellchecker. Bamf is so a word! I don't wanna change it to barf or Banff (and just what the hell is Banff?).  
  
Yeah. Wasn't that kinda pointless? And sucky. And some parts just doesn't make sense to me. Do they make sense to you? But the chapter's sorta maybe needed to move the story along. And I needed an X-Men part! Yeah. And it was short, too. I blame this (hey, you notice that I like to assign blame?) on my Swedish-teacher, who forces me to write about a book. And hold a frickin' speech! Hey, I already know Swedish, I speak it every day, why the hell do I have to read that subject in school? I'd rather read English, since my English grammar's very bad. Yeah . . . And I managed to destroy the shift-tangent of my computer by dropping a book on it, so if there's any capital letters missing, that's the reason.  
  
So, the first OC. Did I do okay with the introduction? You'll find out her powers and codename and stuff in the next X-men part, because I couldn't find a way to subtly hint it in this chap. And Spitfire, was Zander very much OOC? (Not that she was very much showed at all . . .) If she was, I apologize sincerely. Give me pointers? And I'm seriously sorry she was introduced like that, in such a pointless chapter and everything. And I intensely hope I didn't Mary Sue-ed her.  
  
Are there any special pairings you people would like to see in this story? I'm open for (almost) any suggestion. Evan/Pietro. Scott/Lance. Rahne/Roberto. Kitty/Rogue. Ororo/Logan. Jean/Tabitha, the idea of which I blame completely on the Sims. Stupid Sims falls in love with just about anybody. My PietroSim and my WandaSim are at the moment making out in the kitchen. Yes. And Wanda/Pietro is not a pairing I approve of! Just so you know. Oh! And I think Scott/Jean is a blah couple, and Rogue/Remy is so dysfunctional I don't even want to think about it (sorry all Scott/Jean and Rogue/Remy-shippers). But other than that . . . And suggest now, coz I gotta get on with the subtly-hinting-which-characters-will-be-getting-it-on- later. =)  
  
  
  
  
  
Coming up next: the Acolytes! Yay! And Pietro and St. John gets up close an' personal! *giggles* No, it's not like that . . . Maybe . . . *grins maniacally and runs off to play the Sims* 


	3. The Peanut Gallery

I'm writing these Author's Notes while being even more incoherent than usual, so they're . . . weird. Not that my Author's Notes are ever gonna win the Nobel Prize even on a good day . . . But I am extremely out of it at the moment. If I hadn't met my cousin in school, who nicely pointed out that it wasn't Wednesday, I would have ended up in the wrong classroom. But the chapter itself was written when I was normal (well, as normal as I can ever be) so that's pretty okay to read.  
  
Thank you thank you -thank- you for all the nice reviews! They make me very happy! And makes me write faster! Everything good in here is for you guys! Everything bad exists because all of my CD's are boring. An extra little "thank you" to John Surber for informing me what Banff means. (if you didn't know, it's a ski resort in the Alberta Rockies in Canada. *nods in approval*)  
  
Yeah. I don't really have a comment for this chapter. Oh well. It's slightly longer than the previous one! Hurrah!  
  
Big big big thanks to Death Lord La for beta reading!!!  
  
Warning: I'm trying to write Gambit's accent in this chapter. Ahh! The one he usually has, because I've been told that he has no accent in Evo. And Remy's and St. John's personalities are made up entirely by me. (oh no!)  
  
  
  
Well, here's chapter three.  
  
  
  
  
  
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Chapter 3  
  
  
  
  
  
Outside of Bayville, there is a hotel. It is placed in the middle of the woods, away from civilization, with a lake in the back. Your stereotypical horror-movie house, complete with gargoyles on the roof, secret hallways, and a bloody history similar to that of the hotel in "The Shining". Naturally the hotel had been closed down, as that is what happens to hotels where an employee decides to go on a murderous rampage through the rooms. The building stood closed for many years, forgotten by all but the oldest citizens that mentioned it when complaining about what the world was coming to.  
  
After many years, there came a man who had been looking for a place to settle down. Not to age quietly, no, this man had slightly bigger plans than that . . . such as world domination. Since the hotel was in such a nice secluded place (and very cheap), the man bought it, moving in everything that would help him to achieve his goal. Things like strange, powerful machines, and his absolutely terrifying henchmen . . .  
  
"The Power Puff Girls!"  
  
*click*  
  
"I'm counting to ten. One . . . two . . . three . . ."  
  
*click*  
  
"This backpack turns into a dance studio . . ."  
  
*click*  
  
"Oh no-o-oo! A twister! Ruun!"  
  
"This is sooooo boring," Pietro Maximoff sighted from where he was draped over an armchair. "Gimme the remote, you're too slow." He then proceeded to lounge at the current Remote-King, St. John Allerdyce, who possessed the couch at the moment. The blonde teen squealed and tried to escape, but of course, the speed demon was too fast for him.  
  
"Ey, get offa me!" the Australian yelled, resolving to hitting the white- haired teen in the head with the remote.  
  
"C'mon, gimmegimmegimme!" Pietro shouted, then reeling back when the pyromaniac got in a perfect hit on his nose. The speedster grabbed his nose and glared at St. John.  
  
"Bitch."  
  
St. John only flipped him off and returned to watching the TV with a smug look.  
  
*click*  
  
"It's 3 toothpastes in one!"  
  
*click*  
  
"Yeah butterfly tongues! There's nothing more amazing than butterfly tongues . . ."  
  
*click*  
  
"It's been raining hard all day, but right now, it's letting up . . . . ."  
  
"C'mon, Johnny-boy, let's do something funny!" Pietro exclaimed, starting to feel his braincells dying from boredom. There was absolutely nothing to do, since all the teenaged boys were forbidden to leave the grounds of the hotel. After all, Xavier had spies everywhere! Or maybe it was just because of the fact that Piotr Rasputin was the only one of them that didn't cause massive scenes wherever he went. And it wasn't because of the fact that the other three teenagers were so extremely good-looking, it was because of the "accidents" that were prone to happen when they were around.  
  
Not that Remy or Johnny is anywhere -near- as good-looking as me, Pietro contemplated, returning to TV-induced-zombie-state when he noticed St. John wasn't really interested in talking to him, for once not feeling like bugging the hell out of the person that dared to ignore him. Even if Johnny's kinda cute . . . No! Dating teammates are -not- a good idea, dammit! I know that. If anyone knows that, it's me. Uh-hu. I -know-. Hmm . . . I wonder if we've got any peanut butter left.  
  
And with that final thought, Pietro jumped up and sped away to the kitchen area, leaving the other boy alone with the weather-channel.  
  
  
  
~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~  
  
  
  
There wasn't any peanut butter in the fridge. Or in the cupboards. Or in the oven.  
  
"Goddammitwhydon'twehaveanypeanutbutter?!"  
  
"Huh?" Remy LeBeau asked from the kitchen table where he sat doing nothing in particular except looking extremely tired. Yup, I'm sooo much better looking than him. Pietro noted to himself. I'm the handsomest person in the world. And -incredibly- bored. I want peanut butter!  
  
"I want peanut butter," the speed demon said at a slower pace. Apparently not slow enough, because Remy still had a 'stop talking so fast you stupid . . . thing!'-look on his face.  
  
"P-e-a-nut butt-e-r," Pietro half-spelled. "What's the matter with you, are you drunk or something?"  
  
"Not any more," Remy muttered, letting his head fall down on the tabletop.  
  
"What? You guys got drunk without me? That's so . . . so . . . mean!"  
  
"Just me an' Elisa. We raided Magneto's wine cellar. Well, she did, I just happened t' show up in time. Besides, you don' drink."  
  
"Yes I do. I'm just not stupid enough to steal anything from Magneto. Do you have -any- idea what he'll do to you when he finds out?"  
  
"I hope he kills me. I haven' felt dis sick since de first time I drank. Dere must 'ave been something wrong with de wine."  
  
"Hey, maybe it was poisoned and you're gonna die a slow painful death," Pietro suggested, not without some glee.  
  
"Ugh," was all Remy had to say to that.  
  
"Dammit luv, you look like something the cat dragged in," came a new voice from the doorway. The Cajun turned his head a little, looking at the black- haired girl standing there, but not bothering to reply. Pietro snickered a little at Remy's continuously pathetic appearance.  
  
"Hey, Remy, if there was something wrong with the wine, how come Elisa looks nowhere near as trashy as you? She drank too, right?"  
  
"De chere has to be more used t' alcohol, after all, she's lived for three hundred years," Remy muttered, not too happy about being mocked.  
  
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Elisa Brooks said, sauntering over to the counter to grab an apple. "And for your information Remy, I'm no older than a hundred and fifty."  
  
"And aging with grace," Remy noted. After all, Elisa didn't look a day over seventeen.  
  
"I don't age, that's the problem," Elisa muttered, taking a big (but still lady-like) bite out of the apple.  
  
"After all that time you haven't learned some common sense? Stealing from Magneto is -not- very smart!" Pietro exclaimed, then switching subject. "Have you seen any peanut butter?"  
  
"Sweetheart, I didn't -steal- from Magneto, I merely borrowed some of his wine. He won't even notice, if only Remy'll shape up a little. And no, I haven't seen any peanut butter. Have you seen my boots?"  
  
"What boots? You have like, hundreds of 'em," the speedster replied. Oh no, no peanut butter. Damn. And why do I speak like a valley girl?  
  
"My French black knee boots," the girl explained, slightly annoyed. "They're missing."  
  
"Maybe Sabretooth stole dem," Remy snickered from the tabletop. Pietro also grinned at that, but Elisa still looked annoyed.  
  
"Your sense of humor does not amuse me. Well, maybe a little. But I want my sodding boots!"  
  
"Hey, we can go to the mall and buy new boots for you," Pietro suggested, lighting up at the aspect of -doing- something. "And then we can buy peanut butter!"  
  
"You're not allowed t' leave dis house," Remy pointed out. "Disturbing de peace in de cinema was not appreciated by neither de guards nor Magneto."  
  
"You blew up a phone boot," Pietro replied, feeling slightly depressed again. Dammit! I don't wanna be here! "That wasn't very popular either. So you're grounded, too! Ha!"  
  
Remy raised his head to give Pietro an annoyed look.  
  
"Whatever. You are strange."  
  
"Yeah . . . Well . . . You're stranger!" The speedster exclaimed, not really coming up with any good insults. After all, he was hungry!  
  
Remy just blinked. Then a blond figure stormed into the kitchen at high speed. The figure turned out to be the resident pyromaniac.  
  
"Help me!" St. John squealed, hiding behind Pietro. The speed demon looked at him with half irritation and half amusement. He -is- hot . . . and I want peanut butter. Even if the craving for peanut butter wasn't as great as earlier. No, the white-haired teen didn't really want peanut butter any more, but it had become a -challenge- to find some.  
  
"Whassa matter?" he asked the Australian, trying to forget all about peanut butter and good-looking teammates.  
  
"The psychopath's after me!!"  
  
"Which one, we've got lots of 'em 'round here."  
  
"We do?" St. John blinked. "I though there only was Sabretooth and Magneto."  
  
"Well . . . Elisa's slightly psycho."  
  
"Why thank you," Elisa said, raising her apple in a salute. "You're somewhat psychotic, too."  
  
Pietro mock-bowed. "Thank -you- for seeing my great potential." He turned back to St. John. "And Remy's a pseudo psychopath when he hasn't got a hangover. And you're a pyro-psychopath. I guess the only one that's not a psychopath around here is Peter, but he's Russian, so it all adds up."  
  
"Right . . ." the pyro-psychopath in question frowned, then returning to panicked state when Victor Creed entered the room in a less-than-happy mood. Without Elisa's boots. And without eyebrows.  
  
Upon noticing this, Pietro, Remy and Elisa just stared. And stared. And stared. None of them dared to laugh, even if laughter almost was required, because Sabretooth looked ready to kill. The target for his rage was most likely St. John, who was clinging to Pietro's back again, trying to become invisible. However, since invisibility wasn't the power the Australian was gifted with, he was still discernible behind the thinner teenager.  
  
"You!" the furry furious mutant growled, advancing towards the two boys, his intent clearly visible on his face, even without eyebrows. St. John squealed again.  
  
"Please pleaseplease Pietro, get me away from him," he begged the speedster, glancing around for possible exits while the big scary mutant came closer.  
  
"And why should I do that?" Pietro replied, feeling slightly nervous (but not showing it, of course!) even if he wasn't to blame for anything this time. After all, he would end up in the crossfire if he didn't move soon.  
  
"Because you're such a good friend? Because you can't let a fellow mutant go down this way? Because I'll pay you?!"  
  
"Bingo!" Pietro exclaimed. Money was always good. "Hold on." With that, the white-haired gypsy sped out of the kitchen, St. John still firmly attached to his back, leaving behind the outraged Sabretooth as well as the two other mutants who couldn't conceal their laughter anymore.  
  
  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
  
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Disclaimer: Elisa Brooks don't belong to me, she belongs to Amber-goddess. X-Men don't belong to me. One third of my collection of X-Men magazines don't belong to me. But this story is mine! Hahaha!  
  
Another pointless chapter brought to you by the one and only idiot nr 72056. And the ending sucks. Again. Even more so than usual, actually. But I couldn't come up with a better one. And I was completely obsessed with peanut butter while writing this. Just so you know. Yup.  
  
Gah, I think I totally butchered Elisa. Which is bad, coz she's awesome. Did I do okay? Amber-goddess, was she very OOC? And remember, as soon as one OC turns unbearable, -tell me-! Very important. But I hope Elisa didn't disturb anyone. Did you get her powers? They were subtly (or not) hinted.  
  
And I didn't get all that many suggestions for different pairings . . . Maybe it's just me that's obsessed with romance of any kind due to my dysfunctional love life. Oh well. There will be lots and lots of romance in here eventually. And angst (muahahaha!)! Suggest some pairings now. In this story there's two people that are destined to be together (*smiles happily*) but all the others are open for every option. And I'm very easy to convince on pairings, especially odd ones. I'll even throw in some Pyro/Sabretooth if someone asks for it. *blinks in horror at that idea* Or not. Maybe some things are better left unwritten . . .  
  
  
  
Next chapter: Well, you'll find out what really -did- happen to Mystique's closet. Yay! *skips off to write about "Empire Record"* 


	4. Corner of No Return

I'm getting "Wired up 2" for Christmas! And Hardcore Superstars' "Shame"! Yay! And, no, I wasn't down in the basement snoopin' for pressies, I was just trying to find something to eat! Honest! Uh . . .  
  
Thanks for all the very nice reviews! They make me very happy!  
  
As a Christmas present to all of you from all of . . . well . . . me, another chapter! It was going to be an epic-length chapter featuring the Brotherhood, the X-men -and- the Acolytes, but I got a lot of schoolwork, and if I fail Economy I'll . . . fail Economy. Yeah. And that's not good. But I wanted another chapter up before Christmas, so here you go!  
  
Big thanks to Death Lord La for beta reading and encouraging my insanity!  
  
  
  
Warning: The idea for the fate of Mystiques closet came to me early one Monday morning while panicking over school work. I can not guarantee that it makes sense and/or is funny.  
  
  
  
A merry Christmas to all of you!  
  
  
  
*suddenly gets attacked by a huge pile of clothes*  
  
  
  
  
  
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Chapter 4  
  
  
  
  
  
Wanda Maximoff was scowling the darkest she could. It didn't help. The fridge was still deprived of anything edible, the only thing in there being two soda's that'd lost their fizz, a bottle of ketchup, and something that Lance had identified a few days ago as being a hamburger from McDonalds. Most likely bought sometime before the gothic teenager had arrived at the decayed house, since Mystique didn't approve of money being wasted on such things. The presumed hamburger was now resembling one of those little green creatures from the Gremlin movies, only more hairy, and without eyes. Thank God.  
  
The cupboards were also empty, housing a few spiders, an ancient cereal box and stale air. Someone really needed to go grocery shopping. That someone being Lance, since neither Fred nor Todd was able to perform the simple task of buying food with any nutritious value whatsoever, and none of the females in the household were really the food-shopping type. However, all the boys were currently missing. Wanda wasn't completely sure what had happened to them, but the house had been extraordinary quiet the last couple of hours, ever since Mystique's outburst.  
  
I bet she finally snapped and killed them the teenager thought to herself while scowling at the oven fan, which was currently making irritating noises. Now I'll have to shop myself. Fuck. This thought annoyed the girl, and it didn't help her mood that the oven fan was -really- disturbing at the moment. Wanda scowled at it again, and then Hex-bolted it just for good measure. It exploded in a nice little cloud of smoke, something fell out of it, and everything went quiet again. The black-haired girl gave the destroyed kitchen appliance a wary look, then edged closer to behold just what it was that used to be hidden in the fan. Lying among the grime on top of the oven was now a packet of Oreos.  
  
"The hell?" Wanda directed her patented come-near-me-and-you-will-suffer- horribly scowl at the offending item. It wasn't that she didn't -like- Oreos, no, Wanda loved Oreos more than anything else, but one could never be sure of the eatible-factor of food items in the Brotherhood house. Better to not take out any joy in advance.  
  
After making sure that there was no Toad-slime on it, Wanda picked up the cookies. Scrawled on the side of the package was 'Property of Pietro Maximoff. Do not touch!'. That brought forward some murderous thoughts in the Goth's mind, as well as some childhood memories which the girl quickly buried as deep down as she could. Instead she concentrated on checking out the package. It was unopened (so far so good) and the experience date was sometime in the future. Score! Something to eat. All right, and Oreos, at that.  
  
Wanda made a happy sound, then glanced around, ready to Hex-bolt anyone that would happen to notice her excitement. The kitchen was as empty as before, so the girl moved over to the table, intent on enjoying her favorite cookies.  
  
While Wanda was munching on the Oreos a car pulled up outside. A short while later, the kitchen door opened a crack and someone made a quick check of the surroundings. Upon noticing the chocolatey goodness on the kitchen table the door flew wide open and Todd hopped in, zooming in on the cookies.  
  
"Hey, Wanda, sweetums, where did you get those? I can get one, right?"  
  
The Goth (who had resumed her usual "friendly" facial expression the second she heard the car) did not approve of this suggestion.  
  
"Touch them and die."  
  
Todd was smart enough not to push his luck. Instead he skulked away to see if the Oreo-fairy had left something for him. While he was searching every inch of the kitchen, Lance entered the room, followed closely by Fred. Who was followed by a girl with shoulder-length blond greasy hair and a lot of acne. Wanda took another cookie from the package.  
  
"What is that?" she asked Lance.  
  
"This is Kelly," he answered, then tuning to the girl. "Kelly, meet Wanda."  
  
"Hi," Kelly said. Wanda narrowed her eyes, looking at the boys.  
  
"You blew up Mystique's bed, so you're bringing home a stray? I'm sure Mystique will be very happy."  
  
"But Kelly's special," Todd piped up from the kitchen sink where he was currently looking for food. "She can see the future, yo! And we didn't blow up the bed, we only . . . dented it a little."  
  
"Really," Wanda snorted. She then turned to Kelly. "So . . . see the future, huh?"  
  
"Yup," Kelly said from the door where she stood, still taking in her surroundings.  
  
"Then you already know what will happen if you touch my stuff," the antisocial girl said, taking her Oreos and moving to the living room. The kitchen had become so incredibly crowded.  
  
"That's her way of saying 'Welcome'," Fred explained. Kelly looked slightly suspicious.  
  
"Right . . . She seems to be incredibly friendly."  
  
"If you think Wanda's bad, you should meet Mystique," Lance grinned. "Hey, Todd, is there any food?"  
  
"No, you need to go shopping," the boy replied. "Hey, should we go and see how mad Boss Lady is?"  
  
That wasn't necessary, because just then Mystique showed up, looking just about as pissed off as earlier, if not more so.  
  
"My closet!" she growled. "My clothes! Who's this?!"  
  
"I'm Kelly Snomba," Kelly said. Mystique turned to Lance for a more thorough explanation.  
  
"She's Kelly Snomba," he said. Upon noticing that Mystique wasn't too amused, he continued. "She's able to predict stuff. And she's got money! Lots o' money!"  
  
"Really . . . ?" This was something that pleased the bitchy blue boss. "Money?"  
  
"Yeah, she uses he powers to buy great stocks and make money," Fred explained. Mystique grinned in a seriously disturbing way. She liked money. Irene had never used her powers to get money because of moral or something along those lines, so a teenager with precognition was a good thing. After all, teenagers were easy to manipulate, and apparently, this teen was already using her gift in ways Mystique approved of. So, the deadly lady gave the girl a friendly smile (or at least the closest thing to a friendly smile that would ever be seen on Mystique's face) and then turned to the Brotherhood boys.  
  
"I'm going to discuss some . . . things with Kelly here. Why don't you go and clean the living room in the meantime. I will decide your complete punishment later."  
  
The boys groaned, but decided that obeying Mystique was the smartest thing to do at this moment. If they didn't, she'd probably kill them. So they trotted over to the other room where Wanda sat in the couch, still eating her (or rather, her brother's) Oreos.  
  
"This room looks like trash," Fred stated.  
  
"No kidding, yo," Todd muttered. "Ya sure we shouldn't be wearing gas masks?"  
  
"We manage to hang around with you every day without any problem, I think we'll be okay," Lance said. Todd smacked him. Lance smacked Todd in return, sending him propelling forward, landing face down in the trodden carpet. "Let's start cleaning now."  
  
"Mystique's forcing you to clean up? What -did- you do to her closet?" Wanda asked in her best 'not that I -really- care, but I'm incredibly bored, so humor me and maybe I won't turn you into wet spots on the floor'- voice.  
  
"Well, we kinda turned it into a Satanistic altar," Lance admitted. "Complete with weird symbols and black candles an' everything."  
  
"To bring down the plague on Principal Kelly," Fred explained.  
  
"Ya see, to work properly, there were a need for animal sacrifices."  
  
"But we couldn't find any animals to sacrifice, so we used Boss Lady's leather clothes," Todd said.  
  
"We figured it should at least give him the measles or something," Lance finished, shrugging as if sacrificing things to get back at your (former) principal was an everyday occurrence. Wanda just stared, then decided that she would be better of just ignoring that little insight to the other teenager's minds. She returned to her Oreos instead. They were safer, much more predictable.  
  
"Hey, ya think we can avoid the cleaning? I don't think Boss Lady'll notice if we leave."  
  
"I don't hear any cleaning from in there!" Mystique yelled from the kitchen, as if she'd heard what Todd had said.  
  
"Is it really possible to hear cleaning?" Fred pondered aloud.  
  
"The way you guys clean, it is," Wanda muttered, getting her point proven when Todd (who had decided to be a good boy and do what he'd been told for once) accidentally dropped the lamp he had been dusting off with a red sock. The lamp shattered, and Todd jumped away.  
  
"Oops," he said, eyeing the remains of the lighting device. "Ya know, that was an accident."  
  
"-You- are an accident," Lance stated. "Now let's clean up properly, and maybe Mystique won't kill us."  
  
"I think something moved over there," Todd said, pointing over at a dark corner often referred to as 'the corner of no return'. Mainly because, well, nothing ever returned from it once it had been thrown there. Several heaps of schoolbooks had met their final destination in that particular place, as well as a basketball that'd been run over by a truck and some odd socks. There was also a skateboard stolen from Evan Daniels, and love letters from Kitty, which Todd and Pietro had stolen from Lance's room back in the days when Lance and Kitty were still an item and Pietro was still with the Brotherhood. Lance was also pretty sure they had lost their neighbor's cat, Zingo, in that general area.  
  
"Maybe it's that cat," he therefor mentioned.  
  
"Huh? What cat?" Todd asked.  
  
"Ya know, the cat you insisted on cat-napping since you wanted a pet," Lance reminded the toad.  
  
"Didn't Freddy eat that?"  
  
"I don't eat cats!"  
  
"You eat anythin'."  
  
"Not cats!"  
  
"They eat dogs in Asia," Lance suddenly said.  
  
"Huh?" Both Todd and Fred turned to the older boy.  
  
"Yo, Lance, are you okay? You've been actin' a little . . . weird lately."  
  
"I have -not- been acting weird," Lance defended himself. "I mentioned they eat dogs in Asia, that's all!"  
  
"You've been acting weird before that," Fred pointed out. "You earlier said we should clean up properly."  
  
"So Mystique won't kill us!"  
  
"You've been acting weird -long- before that, too. Does this have anything to do with . . ." Todd was cut off.  
  
"If you say that name I think you're about to say, I will strangle you with your own tongue," Lance threatened, not very happy. "I'm not in the mood for this. I'm leaving!" With that said, the rock-shaker stormed out of the room and up the stairs.  
  
"Damn, yo. He's got worse mood swings than Rogue had," Todd muttered.  
  
"He's got love problems, of course he's grumpy," Fred said, being the ever understanding one. Not that many people knew about that side of the Blob.  
  
"Love problems?" Wanda was suddenly very interested in the conversation, and even sounded rather happy. The Oreos had apparently had a positive effect on her mood. Fred feared what would happen when there was no more cookies, an event that would probably be occurring soon, judging by the alarming rate at which the Goth ate them. "You mean because the valley-girl won't talk to him?" Upon hearing this question, Fred and Todd exchanged a look.  
  
"Not exactly . . ." Todd said, wondering if Wanda needed to know the truth. He decided that wouldn't be the case. "But he's not happy about that either."  
  
"Okay," Wanda said, looking from Todd to Fred and back again, well aware of the fact that there was something she didn't know. I can always find out later. There was some more important things to take care of. Such as getting new cookies, since the package was now finished. "I'm gonna go see if the new chick can see some more Oreos in my future. Don't touch anything that's mine."  
  
With that, the girl got up and left, leaving the two remaining boys to clean the living room. Not that she'd help in any case.  
  
"Well," Todd sighted. "I guess we must . . . clean. Ugh. Anyway, I'll clean over here, and you clean over in no-return-corner."  
  
"Why do I have to clean there?"  
  
"Because nothing there can kill you. And I'm allergic to dust!"  
  
"You are not!"  
  
"Maybe not. But go clean now!"  
  
Fred sighted and walked over to the corner of doom, grumbling about bossy toads and PMSing earthmovers all the way.  
  
  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
  
-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-  
  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Kelly Snomba is the property of Klucky. X-Men is property of . . . Marvel, I think. I have no money, especially not around Christmas time.  
  
  
  
*crawls out from underneath the clothes heap* Damn, I really need to clean my room. *kicks away a pair of purple pants*  
  
Okay, so I don't know if the brotherhood-house has got a door to the outside world in the kitchen, but in this story it has! Most houses have one. My house has one. No, wait, it doesn't . . . Damn.  
  
How did I manage to introduce Kelly? Ya know, it's much harder to get the character in into the story in a proper way than just let him/her be there from the start . . . Yeah.  
  
  
  
And hey, as a Christmas pressie to me, you can review! What about that, huh? It doesn't cost anything!  
  
Next chapter may take a while, since I'll be busy with celebrating Christmas, turning eighteen, and running away from people at New Years Eve. Yay! Lot's o' fun!  
  
  
  
  
  
Oh yeah. BIG COMMERCIAL! (Just because I was promised a Buffy-story). Do you like interfics? Huh? I know some of you do . . . Well, if you do, go check out DarkAngelChika's story "Waifs and Strays" right away (God knows how long it'll be up). She's under my "Favorite Authors" list (even though I promised myself not to put anyone there) so she's easy to find. Coz she needs OC's. I'm having a bad influence on everyone I know.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Next time: Uhm. Maybe a change of title? *shrugs and walks away singing on "We're only in it for the drugs" while chewing on a chocolate Santa Claus.* 


	5. Yawn

Whee! New chapter! I hate this chapter! Whee!  
  
Big thanks for all the nice reviews! An extra thank you to Scribbler. Yup, makes me feel loved, too. Is there anyone else out there who has this story under Favorites?  
  
Very Big Thanks to Death Lord La for beta reading!!!  
  
Warning the first: My muse for this fic has died. Yes. It was fading more and more starting sometime right before Christmas, before finally exploding along with my TV the day before my eighteenth birthday (yes, my TV frickin' -exploded-. Now my room has a new funky smell that clashes with the old funky smell). So I had to chase for a new muse. My slash muse just growled at me, claiming it was too early for slash (but it's not! It's -never- too early for slash!). My angst muse committed suicide a couple of months ago (but she will be back. She always comes back) and it didn't fit with angst here anyway. And my dream muse has been weirdly absent for a while. Yes, I've got muses coming out of my ears, but none for this fic (pretty much the same as with OCs). I finally managed to catch one muse, the boring-but- necessary-foreshadowing muse. Yup. All my muses that were even remotely funny have eloped to Spain to look for buckets.  
  
Warning the second: I'm screwing around with Rahne's accent in this chapter.  
  
  
  
Well, on with the chapter that exists mostly to explain some insignificant stuff . . . and is just lots o' dialog and pointless things. Ack!  
  
  
  
  
  
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Chapter 5  
  
  
  
  
  
The five young girls, clad in identical uniforms, sat in the grass, looking extremely tired. They were idly watching the four teenage boys that were training a bit further away at the moment, under the supervision of Wolverine.  
  
"Ya know," Tabitha Smith said, yawning, "This is something I -didn't- miss while living with the Brotherhood. Getting up almost before sunrise, just to train."  
  
"Why do we have to get up so early anyway?" Amara Aquila complained. "It is not like we have anything planned for the rest of the day since we are not allowed in school. And we are just sitting here watching the boys right now."  
  
"I don't mind watching the boys," Tabitha mentioned. "Even if they're not the best lookin' guys around."  
  
"Bobby's kinda cute, don't ya think?" Jubilation Lee absentmindedly noted, following said boy with her eyes. No one really paid any attention to her, since her crush was well known among the female half of the students of the Xavier institute anyway.  
  
"Why ain't we trainin' -with- the boys?" Zander asked, scowling. " Do they think we can't handle it just 'cause we're girls?"  
  
"No, tis not like that," Rahne Sinclair quickly answered. Zander had only been at the institute for a week, but the tomboy's reaction to being treated weaker just because she happened to be a girl was already very well known.  
  
"We're usually training in the Danger Room," Jubilee explained. "And there we can train all at once. But since it was destroyed in the explosion it has to be rebuilt, and the adults though we shouldn't hold off the training any longer. After all, we haven't trained at all since the mansion blew up, and we need to be more trained now that everybody knows about mutants. Since the others are training at a harder level somewhere else, Wolverine is the only one to train us newer recruits, and he can't train us all at the same time. So we split up and have to wait." Jubilee stopped her ramblings to gawk some more at Bobby.  
  
"Oh. Okay." Zander seemed pleased with that answer, even if it was somewhat incoherent and severely overused the word "train".  
  
"I still do not understand why we have to get up so early," Amara muttered. "It is seven in the morning!"  
  
"Tis because we usually do this before school," Rahne pointed out. "Ye know that."  
  
"But we're banned from school," Jubilee mentioned, still watching Bobby. The spandex uniform did amazing things for his butt.  
  
"Yeah, but the Professor is talking t' the principal and some other important people. That's prolly why he's been away so long. He's doing his best t' make sure mutants have all the rights normal humans have. And since he returned yesterday, we might be accepted back in school any day now."  
  
"Ohh, I can't wait," Tabitha said, bringing forward every ounce of sarcasm she could muster at this early hour.  
  
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm kinda scared of going back," Jubilee said, finally paying full attention to the other girls. "Especially after what happened yesterday."  
  
"What happened yesterday?" Zander asked. The only thing she could remember was that she got kitchen duty for a week because she had put spiders in Kurt and Bobby's beds, to get back at them for having the nerve to throw her into Rogue's room.  
  
"Well, ye see, we went t' the movies," Rahne said. "And then we met these guys from school. They were really awful, harassin' us about being mutants and stuff. It was horrible."  
  
"Ray almost got into a fight with them," Tabitha said.  
  
"You didn't exactly help things," Jubilee pointed out. "Threatening to blow them up and everything."  
  
"Hey, we're the ones with the powers. They should be scared of us."  
  
"That's what they prolly are," Rahne said. "And tis not good. There will most likely be trouble, no matter what we do."  
  
"Yeah, going home again won't help," Jubilee said. "My parents wanted to take me away from here, but it'll be the same everywhere."  
  
"Except that almost everyone in Bayville knows that this is a mutant school," Zander mentioned.  
  
"They do?" Amara asked, horrified.  
  
"Well, yeah. Ah found out after bein' in town for only an hour or so."  
  
"But we're safer here," Jubilee said, evidently intent on getting everyone to see the light. Or at least the reasons to stay.  
  
"Well, duh, we've got lots of security and stuff here," Tabitha frowned. "And it's not like I'm longing to go home again."  
  
Amara opened her mouth to say something else, but apparently the boys's training time was over. They were now walking over to where the girls were sprawled over the grass, most of them zooming in on the water bottles present in that general area.  
  
"Man, that was tuff," Bobby muttered, flinging himself down next to Jubilee. "Wolverine must be in a very bad mood today."  
  
"Yup, you girls better be careful," Ray Crisp said, reaching for a bottle. Upon noticing the look Zander was sending his way, he quickly shut up. Roberto DaCosta, obviously too cool for the grass, just leaned against a tree, while Sam Guthrie sat down a bit from Rahne, giving her a quick glance which she managed to miss entirely.  
  
"Girls, get over here immediately!" Wolverine barked from where he was standing. He was clearly annoyed with the fact that none of the girls had enough telepathic powers to understand that they should start their training session the very second the boys had stopped. The girls just gave up a collective sight and rose, trotting over to the grumpy mutant.  
  
Amara, Tabitha and Jubilee were moving at a brisk pace, but Rahne was walking rather slowly, in deep thought about something. Zander fell into step beside the fellow changeling.  
  
"Ya okay?"  
  
"I guess," Rahne answered. "I think tis unfair that we should be treated like monsters, 'cause we can do things others cannea."  
  
"Life's unfair, get used to it. Some people have good lives, some people have bad lives, and we're mutants. There's nothin' we can do about it."  
  
"I just donnea get why tis such a big deal. So what that I can turn into a wolf and you can turn into a tiger and that Jubes can shoot fireworks from her hands. Why won't they just accept what we are?"  
  
"That ain't gonna happen, so ya can stop wishin' for it. Ya'll just get disappointed. People will always pick on the weaker to seem more powerful themselves. If we hadn't been mutants, they'd find somethin' else wrong about us. Trust me, ah know."  
  
"Hm." The two shapeshifters walked in silence for a little while.  
  
"Wolfsbane! Bengal! Hurry up!" Wolverine yelled. The other three girls were standing with him waiting for them, already powered up, Amara in her firery shape, Jubilee shooting tiny sparks from her hands, and Tabitha creating her cherry bomb thingies. Wolverine stood with his arms crossed, looking extremely irritated.  
  
"Hey, was he so far away from the beginnin'?" Rahne frowned, noticing that they still had quite a bit to go. Zander just shrugged. Rahne frowned again, then she also shrugged. "Race ye to them," she said, turning into her werewolf form and starting to run toward the others. Zander quickly turned into her other shape, a humanoid white tiger, and set off after the younger girl.  
  
  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
  
-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-  
  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Suing me will do no good, since my education will provide me with no job opportunities whatsoever once I graduate. I will be poor all my life.  
  
Well. Wasn't that horrible? And I know I say this about pretty much every chapter (can you say "low self-esteem"?), but this is the truth. Oh well. If you thought this was awful to read, look at the bright side. It could be worse. You could be writing this frickin' thing!  
  
I truly despise this chapter. There's only one line I like. Extra brownie points if you can figure out which one that is! But you did get some info about stuff, and now you know Zander's power and codename! Yay!  
  
On another note. My spellchecker wants me to change Rahne to Rhino.  
  
  
  
  
  
Next chapter: The Acolytes! Whee! More Pietro! I like Pietro. 


	6. Insanity! Whee!

Uh . . . sorry for the delay? Ya know, I had part of this written, but then I was hit by a -massive- depression, of the can't write-can't think-can't do anything kind. It was -really- bad, so that's the reason this chapter took so long.  
  
Some parts here (especially in the Author's Notes) was written before my depression, and I'm just too damn lazy to change them. So if something seems weird, that's the reason.  
  
I absolutely love you guys! Even if I write a chapter that sucks, you give me nice reviews and I feel much better! People even read my author's notes! Even if they're . . . insane . . . I still don't like chapter 5 . . . and that's the chapter that has gotten the most reviews of all. Anyway, you're great! I wish I could read and review all of your stories, but I don't have the time, school's in the way. Maybe I should write personal "thank you"s at the end of every chapter . . . and I might review your stories under my other FF.Net account, so you never know . . .  
  
As for my favorite line for the last chapter, it was: "The spandex uniform did amazing things for his [Bobby's] butt." I wrote this 2 a.m. on a Saturday and it makes me giggle. I'm also feeling affectionate towards: "Roberto DaCosta, obviously too cool for the grass, just leaned against a tree, while Sam Guthrie sat down a bit from Rahne, giving her a quick glance which she managed to miss entirely." And that's pretty much it.  
  
And I've gotten a new TV! *pets TV* It's six times bigger than the one that exploded. *pets TV* And in color. *pets TV* And it has the channel "TVDanmark 2", so now I can watch Jenny Jones. *pets TV* And unfortunately I managed to get in a erotic TV-serie featuring David Duchovny (ya know, Mulder from X-Files) and I am now scarred for life. *runs away in horror*  
  
Unfortunately, the TV came without muses (and remote, so every time I want to change channel, I have to streeeeetch, and every time I streeeeetch to change channel, my computer shuts down. Crap.). So this chapter is kinda sucky, too. It's painful. Egh. And despite it's suckiness it's somewhat long, too. And there's so. Much. Dialogue. Ehhhhhh . . . Let's just pretend that this chapter's an exercise in writing good dialogue, yes?  
  
Big thanks to Death Lord La for beta-reading this and telling me it doesn't suck nearly as bad as I thought it did!  
  
  
  
Rejoice!: I'm not even trying to write Piotr's accent, coz I have -no- idea how it's supposed to be written. Just imagine that he talks with his nifty Russian accent, kay?  
  
  
  
On with the crapiness!  
  
  
  
  
  
-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
  
  
  
  
The former hotel placed in the middle of the woods was even quieter than usual. Not that it ordinarily was a party central, but four teenage boys, one immortal woman, one slightly insane murderous psychopath and one old man with genocidal tendencies tend to make some noise. At the moment however, the room that served as a living room was only occupied by Piotr Rasputin and Pietro Maximoff. Piotr, commonly known as Peter, was busy reading a thick novel in some foreign language, most likely Russian, and Pietro was busy staring at the television that currently showed a soap opera in some foreign language, most likely a language he didn't understand. The joys of having a boss that wanted to be able to keep the entire world under supervision, and thus making sure there was at least one channel from every country that had a TV channel.  
  
"Hey, Peter, wanna do something?" Pietro asked, feeling -extremely- bored. This place seemed to have that effect on him.  
  
"No," the metal teen just answered, not even bothering to look up from his book.  
  
"Why not?" the speedster whined. "I'm boo-o-oored, I don't know where the others are, and this program is the only good thing that's on, and I don't even understand what happens 'cause they don't speak English and oh my God, they're twins!"  
  
"What?" This time Peter felt the need to give the younger teen a "what the heck did -you- smoke?" look.  
  
"On the TV! That blond dude and that blond chick are twins!"  
  
"That's nice."  
  
"Yup, especially since they've been screwing for the last couple of episodes."  
  
"You actually follow that show? You said you don't even understand what happens in it!"  
  
"There's nothing else to do around here! Taking over the world sure is boring. At least you're allowed to leave this place."  
  
"Yes. There is very much to do in Bayville." With that, the Russian turned back to his book. Pietro gave up a frustrated sigh and turned back to the TV, changing channel at super speed and quickly noticing that there really was nothing on.  
  
"I'm going to die," he sighted. "I swear, I'm going to die from boredom."  
  
"And I am going to die because you won't stop annoying me," Peter muttered.  
  
"And I'm never going to die," Elisa said, appearing in the doorway as she seemed to be prone to do lately. "When is Magneto coming back?"  
  
"I didn't know he was gone," Pietro replied, continuing to flip through the channels. "When did he leave?"  
  
"He and the others left for Germany a couple of hours ago," Peter informed the younger teen.  
  
"Really? Why weren't we allowed to go? How come no one ever tells me what's happening?"  
  
"You never pay any attention, luv, that's the problem. We weren't needed, so we didn't have to go. You're not missing anything anyway, Germany's not that much fun." She then moved over to the couch, pushed away Pietro's legs and sat down on the now empty spot. Pietro scowled over the fact that he was now forced to assume an upright position and decided to disturb Elisa just for the heck of it.  
  
"Elisaaaaaa . . ."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm booooored . . ."  
  
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"  
  
"I don't know, something!"  
  
"Like . . . ?"  
  
"You're the old one around here, you should know something funny to do," Pietro whined. Elisa kicked the white-haired teen in the kneecap.  
  
"Stop bugging me, you're a bloody pain in the arse," she muttered, sipping on the hot beverage she had in her Scooby-Doo adorned cup.  
  
"What's that?" Pietro asked.  
  
"Tea," was all the other mutant answered, grabbing the remote from the speedster and starting to surf through the channels.  
  
"Tea?! You can't drink tea! You're from England!"  
  
"Yeaaah . . . ?"  
  
"English people drinking tea is so stereotypical! You can't act that stereotypical!"  
  
"Sheesh luv, cut back on the sugar. You act stereotypically gay but no one's having a fit over that."  
  
"What?" Pietro stuttered. "I'm -not- gay!"  
  
"Well of -course- not." Elisa said in a patronizing way. "You used to have a boyfriend, but you're not the slightest gay."  
  
"Wha . . . ? Who . . . ? Did John say something? I swear, I'll kill him!"  
  
"John is the one that talks the most around here," Peter commented. "You would be better of discussing your problems with Sabretooth if you want them to be a secret."  
  
Pietro quickly went through a collection of different facial expression. Surprised, annoyed, slightly amused, bored, angry and disturbed. He finally settled for sulky. Elisa rolled her eyes.  
  
"Aww, sweetheart, stop moping. You'll get over being dumped in no time."  
  
"WHAT!?!" Pietro now looked downright pissed. "I wasn't dumped! I dumped -him-! No one dumps Pietro Maximoff! And that was -not- the reason I was moping. And I wasn't moping!"  
  
Peter and Elisa just stared at him. The gypsy 'Hmpfhht'-ed. Peter frowned and returned to his book, muttering something about being surrounded by crazy people. Elisa on the other hand continued to stare at Pietro, then suddenly smiled widely. In a very scary way.  
  
"You know what, we should find you a new boyfriend!" she exclaimed, delighted with the idea. Pietro's eyes just about popped out of his head.  
  
"No way! I'm not having you pairing me off with anyone!"  
  
"Hon, I'm an expert when it comes to flirting and such, I'll be able to find you the perfect match. And I think you should get a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, so that you'll stop being so damn obnoxious. You clearly need to get your mind off the last one. How long were you dating anyway?"  
  
"On and off ever since a few months after I came to Bayville," Pietro muttered, reluctant to encourage the immortal in any way.  
  
"Mhm . . ." Elisa pondered this. "It was kinda serious then. So you should get someone . . . not serious. Like Johnny!"  
  
"No!" Pietro squeaked, even if he himself had thought along those lines on several occasions.  
  
"But you two'd be the perfect match."  
  
"He's my -friend-, that's it." Pietro glared at her, much like a guilty three-year old that was told he could eat all the cookies in the jar after he'd already eaten them. Elisa ignored him.  
  
"Remy's also pretty non-serious, but I think he's got something going with that Goth-chick from the goody-two shoes place."  
  
"-Rogue-?" Pietro snorted. "-Remy- and -Rogue-? C'mon, she can't touch anyone, and he's an excessively horny male! They'd never work out."  
  
"She can't touch? Then I guess you won't be able to hit it of with her either."  
  
"What? I'm classified as an excessively horny male?"  
  
"Yes. Now, I'm not too interested in dating you at the moment, and I doubt you and Victor would get along. And because of yours and Magneto's -relationship- I don't think it'd be a good idea for an -romantic- relationship between the two of you."  
  
"Elisa!" Pietro gave the older mutant an incredulous look and hit her in the head with a couch cushion, almost spilling her tea. "Don't even suggest things like that!"  
  
"I didn't." Elisa gave the speedster an innocent look, while Peter did his best to ignore them. He wasn't even too sure what they were talking about anymore, since Magneto's parenthood wasn't widely known amongst the Acolytes. In fact, Elisa and Sabretooth were the only ones that knew. Besides Pietro and Magneto, of course.  
  
"Soooo . . ." Elisa grinned, sipping her tea. "Then I guess there's only one mutant left if we want to keep it within the team . . ."  
  
"What?" Now this was something that caught Peter's attention. "No!"  
  
"Aww, come on Petey," Elisa pouted. "You and . . . uhh . . . Petey . . . would make a perfect couple."  
  
"I like -girls-," Peter stated, giving the two other mutants a Russian snowstorm-glare.  
  
"Pietro's pretty girly," the black-haired girl said, ignoring the white- haired teens indignant "Hey!". Peter just scowled at her.  
  
"No."  
  
"You're no fun," Elisa pouted, then turning back to Pietro. "Then I guess we'll have to go over to the "good guys". The bloke with the glasses is pretty cute."  
  
"Summers?! You can't be serious!"  
  
"Okay, so not him. He's too much of a do-gooder anyways. Oh, what about that guy Johnny tried to burn when you were fighting, you know, right before this whole Sentinel-fiasco. That spike-throwing thing."  
  
"Daniels?!?!? No!!! No way!! Don't even try!"  
  
"But you'd be so -cute- together!" Elisa squealed.  
  
"No!!!" Pietro exclaimed in horror, hitting the immortal with a pillow to make the awful suggestions stop. Elisa quickly put down her tea on the coffee table and grabbed a pillow of her own, smacking the speedster with it in return. The pillow fight continued for some time, while Peter tried to ignore the immature mutants and read his book. Then a ringing sound could be heard, interrupting all the commotion.  
  
"It's the phone," Pietro said, sounding slightly surprised.  
  
"It's not the bleedin' vacuum cleaner, now is it?" Elisa said, trying to fix her long hair that'd been ruffled by many hits from the speedster's pillow. Getting into a pillow fight with someone with super speed wasn't such a great idea.  
  
"Since when do we have a phone?"  
  
"Since I convinced Magneto that we needed one. Go answer it!"  
  
"I don't even know where it is!" Pietro exclaimed, but still jumped up from the couch and speed off to find the ringing device. He came back a short while later, talking into a black cordless phone.  
  
"Yes sir. Uh-hu . . . Yes. No sir. Of course." Then he handed the phone to Elisa. "Magneto. He wants to talk to you." Elisa accepted the phone. Not that anyone in their right mind would refuse to speak to the master of magnetism.  
  
"Hello Erik. Yes. I understand. Yes. All right. Bye then." She hung up, turning to the two teenagers. "Well, it seems like the trip to Europe will take a little longer than expected. There's a new mutant they've got to pick up in Spain before returning."  
  
"Ohh . . . then no one would notice if I just went downtown for a while," Pietro said, preparing for take-off.  
  
"Sorry luv, I promised Magneto I would make sure you didn't leave this area. I don't think he trusts you not to cause a scene."  
  
"With good reason, too," Peter noted from his armchair.  
  
Pietro just pouted and sunk back into the couch.  
  
  
  
~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~  
  
  
  
Not much had changed in the last couple of hours. The three mutants were still in the living room, bored senseless. Peter had finished his book and was currently watching an old episode of Ricki Lake, Elisa was trying (and failing) to build a house of some of Remy's stray cards and Pietro was taking cards from Elisa, using one of St. John's stray lighters to burn them up.  
  
"Remy will be angry with you when he returns," Peter told Pietro when there was a commercial break.  
  
"No he won't," Pietro replied. "Why would he? He blows up the cards in any case. And since John's the pyromaniac of the group, he'll get blamed if Remy's being cranky 'bout burned up cards. 'Specially since he burned off Sabretooth's eyebrows the other day."  
  
"John didn't burn them off," Elisa commented, scowling at the cards that had fallen over -again-. Oh how she wished for death ray-powers right now. Or at least some glue. "He shaved them."  
  
"Really? I thought he burned them."  
  
"No, he burned off his own eyebrows," Peter informed the skinny teen.  
  
"When?"  
  
"Long before this whole mutants becoming public-thing," Elisa said. "You were still with the Brotherhood, I think. Anyway, he was playing around with one of his lighters, trying to make dragons or something, and then Poof! His eyebrows were gone."  
  
"It was actually rather amusing," Peter said.  
  
"Victor without eyebrows is also amusing," Elisa contemplated. "Although I must say, I don't understand why he overreacted so. They've almost completely grown back already. Must be some sort of side effect from his mutant powers."  
  
"I don't understand why John is always picking fights with Sabretooth," Peter said.  
  
"The mutant version of extreme sport," Pietro mused. "Annoy the scary hairy . . . fairy?"  
  
Elisa snorted. "If you call Victor a fairy to his face, you'll really need your super speed to survive."  
  
"That's the only thing I can come up with that rhymes with scary and hairy," the pale teen defended himself.  
  
"Larry!" St. John exclaimed, suddenly showing up in front of the TV. Not because of some newly developed teleportation-powers, but because he moved rather fast thanks to hyperness from eating too much candy and then being forced to sit still for a long while.  
  
"I thought you were in Europe," Elisa said, scowling at the blond teen for wrecking her house of (five) cards with the draft he created while moving.  
  
"I came, I saw, I went back to the States," St. John replied. "And I brought a souvenir!" That said, he moved back to the doorway through which he had entered the room, then returning dragging someone with him. This someone turned out to be a young teenage girl with light brown hair.  
  
"You must be the new mutant," was Pietro's brilliant conclusion.  
  
"Yup," St. John said. "Everyone, meet Jennifer Falls. The reason she's a little pale at the moment is that she's claustrophobic, which doesn't agree well with Magneto's choice of transportation. Jenny, this is Elisa, Pietro and Piotr. Pietro . . Piotr . . . Pietro . . . Piotr . . . hey, your names are bloody similar."  
  
"We know," was Peter's humorless reply. He wanted to see Ricki Lake, but the annoying Aussie was in the way.  
  
"Whatever," St. John said, turning back to Jennifer. "You can just call 'em both Pete or somethin'."  
  
"So, what're your powers?" Elisa asked the girl, deciding that she really didn't want to build a house of cards.  
  
"Uhm, I can sort of . . . find other mutants, and then I become them or something," Jennifer answered. "I'm not really sure actually, it manifested just recently. Magneto said he'd look into it."  
  
"Yeah, he's good at that," Pietro said. "Hey, ain't that Johnny's clothes you're wearing?" he then noted, already becoming bored with the former conversation.  
  
"You notice Johnny's clothes!" Elisa squealed, ignoring the speedsters glare and St. John's look of confusion.  
  
"You're sure there's nothing more than tea in your cup, Elisa?" Peter asked the immortal mutant, who ignored him in orderly fashion.  
  
"We had to burn Jenn's old clothes in the fireplace," St. John said, apparently not being able to shut up for a longer period of time. "There's some mutant hunter or sumethin' after her, and her clothes were too distinguish, since they're nun clothes. Jenny's fresh out from a convent."  
  
"Nifty," Elisa said, then noticing that a certain Cajun was missing. "Where's Remy?"  
  
"Remy's carsick. Well, round-floating-shiny-metal-ball-sick. I think that's the only reason Magneto brought him, so he'd get punished for stealing wine without Magneto having to put in too much of an effort. He's currently puking his guts out in the bathroom. Remy, not Magneto. Magneto went to watch the Teletubbies or somethin'."  
  
Most of the mutants in the room just stared at the blond teen. Then Pietro came to think of something.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"What?" St. John asked.  
  
"I'm going to kill you."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"You told people about you-know-who!"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know! My ex!"  
  
"Ohhh . . . Eh . . . About that . . . that was totally unintentional. So, uh . . . just, calm down. Think happy thoughts. Not murderous ones." St. John was looking slightly worried.  
  
"I'll give you a five minutes head start," Pietro said, looking slightly murderous.  
  
"Eep!" was all the Australian said, running off as fast as he could. Three seconds later, the white-haired teen took up the chase, followed by Elisa who was shouting some randomly disturbing things involving St. John, Pietro and a bedroom. Peter and Jennifer stared after the other three mutants for a while, and then the Russian teen turned to the new girl.  
  
"Welcome to the insanity. I bet you will like it here."  
  
  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
  
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Disclaimer: X-Men is the property of Stan Lee. Jennifer Falls is the property of Medjke. And since I'm only gonna disclaim OC's once I'm not gonna tell you again that Elisa ain't mine.  
  
So . . . was that as bad as I think it was? And is anyone still interested in this story? Is it worth continuing? Have I lost all my readers? How many questions can I ask before you get pissed off? Please review?  
  
I know this was kinda . . . jumpy at times, with the talking going off in all directions. But hey, that's what it's like in real life, right? Me and a friend (yes, I do have friends! Believe it or not.) started talking about cars, and ten seconds later we were talking about glasses, soon followed by guys shaving their legs and skeletons in wigs. It was a Friday, after all.  
  
You know, I was going to write Piotr instead of Peter when talking about him, but Piotr looks damn much like Pietro. This would probably result in confusion, if not amongst you readers, then in my brain.  
  
I'm getting all kinds of suggestions for different pairings! That's absolutely wonderful! Every suggestion will be considered, and if it fits into the story, it'll prolly show up. It's most appreciated, and helps me to steer clear from writing in a Sam/Wolverine pairing. 'Cause that'd prolly scar lots of people for life . . . And if anybody ever writes (or reads) a Evan/Pietro/Kurt fic, let me know!!! Thank you Greg for that idea! =)  
  
  
  
Next time: I will get a new muse. I will get a new muse. And I must go to bed now. 


	7. Hey boy, sittin' in your tree, mummy alw...

Thanks for the reviews! They make me a very happy person! Please review this chapter too?  
  
I'm not sure what I think of this chapter. Some parts of it sucks bad, I'm sure. I had almost all of it written, but then my cat died, so some of the things here (especially the Author's Notes) were written while I was depressed (and had a slight fever) and I wasn't very coherent. You can ignore those parts, please. And I'm still not very coherent. But if I had waited with writing this, I would have gotten stuck (writer's block is not funny), so I needed to finish this chapter and get it up. And Death Lord La told me it was good. Thanks for Beta-reading, you're the best!  
  
We've started with science in school now. We're gonna read about Evolution. This makes me giggle. Apparently giggling in science class makes you seem insane. Oh well. My teacher looks like a cartoon, and he's doesn't pay very much attention to the students. Which means I can sit and write in class. Thus some parts in this chapter (and future chapters) are slightly insane, because science makes evil stuff to your brain. This chapter also had me singing "C'est la vie" (ya know that song from 1998 or something by those Irish people) the entire day. Oh well, it was a break from "Lola". I've -so- got to stop listening to songs from the sixties in the morning.  
  
I have an important question: what time of the year is it in Evo around the episode Mainstream? Does anybody know? If not, I'm gonna go with Marsh-ish (even if that's probably completely wrong) because . . . yeah! Anyone mind? No? Okay then.  
The chapter where I'm totally ripping off "Mainstream"! Whee. Okay, I'm -almost- totally ripping off "Mainstream". I've stolen some of the things the Professor said. I will copy the rest in another chapter.  
Oh, and just for the record, {[blah]} means telepathic messages/conversation/whatever. I'm kinda hoping it's clear even without me telling you, buuuut I felt like writing even more up here.  
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Chapter 7  
Scott Summers had never had a tree house. Strangely enough, military bases in Alaska had a real shortage of those, and since that was where Scott had spent most of his childhood (before falling out of a plane and then being shipped around in a multitude of foster homes) he had never known the joys of sitting in a poorly constructed building up in a half-rotten tree, reading comic magazines and eating candy. He'd always wanted to have a tree house, but this had been a big secret for all those years, something he had to repress so he could act like the leader he was supposed to be.  
  
However, now that the mansion was completely rebuilt, only needing some paint and furniture and various tiny gewgaws to make it's residents feel at home, and there was a lot of spare boards left, the temptation was too great. So Scott decided to build a tree house. Of course, eighteen-year-old males can't build tree houses for themselves and still be considered perfectly normal, so the brown-haired youth had to come up with a cover story. As in, he was building it for Jamie Madrox. One of the great things about having a twelve-year-old around was that everything immature could be blamed on him. Not that Jamie minded very much, after all, he'd get a tree house!  
  
At any rate, Scott chose a nice tree a bit from the mansion, and started building. Sam was helping, since he was considered to be the resident expert of tree houses due to his many many siblings, and Bobby was helping because he considered himself to be the resident expert of building in general. Jubilee also came around, mainly because of Bobby, and the Asian teen forced Rahne to be there as well so that she wouldn't have to be the only girl. This was something that made Sam happy (but somewhat clumsy) since he had a huge crush on the Scottish werewolf. Jubilee was also happy, since she got to be close to Bobby, Bobby was happy since he got to show off his marvelous building skills and Rahne was just generally happy today. Jamie was happy that the older kids had time for him and Scott was happy because he'd finally get his tree house (even if it officially was Jamie's), so all in all, it was a very happy place to be. Like Woodstock, only without the music and drugs and millions of hippies.  
  
"We should get some music here," Jubilee commented from up in the tree.  
  
"We can't," Bobby pointed out, taking a break from sawing some planks. "Wolverine confiscated the CD player as soon as he came back."  
  
"Oh . . . yeah . . ." Jubilee remembered, pouting a little and hammering another nail in a board, narrowly missing Sam's finger. He didn't notice, of course, since all of his attention was on Rahne, who was sitting on the ground sorting nails by size. Needless to say, she wasn't too interested in the tree house building. Unlike Scott, who was happily sawing planks and doing lots of other stuff, and Jamie, who was running around in the area helping with various things (or just being in the way).  
  
"Hey, we need more nails up here," Jubilee said after some more hammering. As a respond to this, Rahne (being too tired to move) threw some nails in the general direction of Jubilee and Sam. Which missed them by a couple of miles.  
  
"Rahney, don't be so lazy," Jubilee whined. Rahne just shrugged, too lazy to even give a vocal reply.  
  
"I'll get 'em for you," Bobby said with a flirty smile that made the black- haired girl go weak in her knees. Bobby grabbed some nails and climbed up the tree with them, making a big show of handing them to the sparkly teen using the word "Milady" several times. Jubilee giggled happily, while Rahne and Sam just rolled their eyes.  
  
Scott smiled at Bobby's semi-innocent display of affection. The bespectacled mutant was a very romantic teen at heart, but he was very unlucky when it came to love. Which was why he hadn't been able to give Bobby any tips when the younger boy had asked him for advice about his ever- growing crush on Jubilee. However, it seemed like the icy teen was able to catch the Asian girl's attention even without help.  
  
{[Scott, Bobby, would you be so kind to come to my office.]}  
  
Now, Scott was used to be mentally contacted by Professor Xavier, after all, he had lived at the institute for many years. Bobby on the other hand had only been called for in this way once or twice before, and since he was very concentrated on flirting with Jubilee at the moment, the result was a surprised noise and a fall from the branch he was sitting on. The others ran up (or down, in Jubilee's and Sam's cases) to him.  
  
"Are you okay?" Scott asked, quickly checking for broken bones or any other injuries but finding none.  
  
"Yeah . . ." Bobby mumbled a little embarrassed (looking foolish in front of two cute girls and the team leader was not good for his reputation). "Just wish Prof could give some warning or somethin' before talkin' in my head like that."  
  
"You were contacted too?"  
  
"Yup, I'm s'posed to report to his office. You too?"  
  
"Yes," Scott answered, standing up and helping Bobby to also assume an upright position. "Let's get going."  
  
"'Kay."  
  
"Be careful, don't hurt yourself," the brown-haired teen told the remaining kids, walking of together with Bobby, back towards the civilization.  
~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~  
Charles Xavier's office was one of the few places in the newly built institute that was completely finished, with wallpapers, furniture and even a couple of paintings on the walls. After all, this was an important place when it came to convincing parents that their mutant children would be perfectly safe there. For some reason, the underground tunnels didn't give such a great impression.  
  
The office was very crowded at the moment. When the two teenaged boys entered the room, Xavier sat by his desk, Logan stood in a corner looking not-very-happy (as usual) and Ororo Munroe sat in a blue couch. This was something that came as a surprise to Scott, since the last time he'd checked she and Evan Daniels were still in New York visiting Evan's parents. Speaking of the dark-skinned teen, he was sitting in another couch (this one green) in the other part of the room, looking slightly annoyed. Kurt (his holowatch up and running) sat next to him, looking very sleepy, and Kitty sat next to the fuzzy boy, idly playing with her necklace. Rogue sat alone in an armchair next to the door, a bored expression on her face. Jean Grey sat next to Ororo, and next to the red-haired girl was another teen which neither Scott nor Bobby had ever seen before.  
  
"Ah, Scott, Robert, how is the tree house coming along?" Xavier asked the newcomers.  
  
"Uhm, fine," Scott answered, while Bobby just glanced at the stranger.  
  
"This is Tristian Lise," the Professor told them, seeing that they were very interested in why there was an unknown blue-haired boy sitting on the couch. "He's a new student here. Tristian, meet Scott Summers and Robert Drake. Robert, would you mind showing Tristian around and introducing him to everyone?"  
  
"Of course not," Bobby answered and disappeared out from the room again, Tristian following him. Scott sat down on the now vacant seat next to Jean, his attention on the Professor.  
  
"Now that you all are here," Xavier started, "I have a important announcement. As you might know, there has been a debate going on worldwide for the last couple of weeks whether mutants deserve the same rights as humans. I am sure you understand that it will probably take some time before we get all the rights as we should have, however, there has been a vote about your right to an education. You are now allowed back in school, as long as you don't use your powers."  
  
"That's great!" Kitty exclaimed, then frowning when no one else reacted. "Right?"  
  
"Of course it is," Ororo answered.  
  
"Ah'm not so sure about that," Rogue muttered. "Ah mean, people treated us like freaks even when no one knew about mutants, how are they gonna react to us now?"  
  
"We will be just fine, Rogue," Jean said, trying to convince the Goth as well as herself.  
  
"Oh, you think you'll still be popular?" Evan said, apparently feed up with the subject even before any real discussion had started. "C'mon Jean, we're being called monsters in public! The entire world saw us use our powers on TV! Don't expect people to welcome you back with flowers and fruit- baskets."  
  
"Evan!" Ororo exclaimed.  
  
"I don't zink it's going to be so bad," Kurt told his friend, who just scowled at him.  
  
"Maybe not for you, since -this- you ain't labeled as a mutant -yet-," Evan answered, indicating Kurt's holowatch form. "You show up in your natural shape at school and see how people react, then you can try tellin' me about it being 'not so bad'. I've had enough of this, I'm leavin'."  
  
That said, Evan stormed out from the office in that way only teenage boys do, leaving behind some very confused mutants.  
  
"What's wrong with Porcupine?" Logan asked from his corner. Ororo sighted.  
  
"There was some issues at home," she said. "My sister and her husband has been experiencing some difficulties now that people know about Evan's mutation, and he is not happy to have caused his parents such problems."  
  
"His parents gets trouble just because Evan's a mutant?" Kitty asked, immediately thinking of her own parents. "That's awful!"  
  
"Yes," Ororo answered. "I better go talk to him now. Excuse me."  
  
"So, are we the only ones that'll go to school?" Rogue asked when Ororo had left. "Or will the new kids also go back?"  
  
"Everyone will be returning to school," Xavier answered. "I will talk with the younger students later, but I felt it was the best to talk with you first. You will start again the day after tomorrow. That's all I had to say, you may leave now."  
  
The teenagers rose from their seats and walked out through the door. Kurt went off to find Evan, Rogue went to find her book she'd left somewhere, and Kitty phased down to the kitchen to find something to eat. Scott started walking out towards the tree house again, and Jean walked with him.  
  
"You were very quiet in there," the girl told the older teen. "Thinking about your tree house?"  
  
Scott blushed a little.  
  
"It's Jamie's tree house, you know."  
  
"Sure it is." Jean gave him a friendly smile. "You told me a while ago about how much you wanted a tree house, remember?"  
  
"Not really," Scott lied. He had hoped the redhead wouldn't remember that.  
  
"All right. If you say so. Well, I'm off to make sure Tabitha didn't steal my perfume again, she uses the entire bottle in one go. Good luck with the building."  
  
"Thanks. And Jean . . ."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I don't think you need to be scared of returning to school. I'll look out for you if anything happens."  
  
"Thanks." The girl gave her best friend a hug, then turned and walked in the other direction.  
~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~  
"There's really not much to show around here right now," Bobby explained to Tristian as they walked down the hallway. "Because of a big explosion and everythin'. But I can introduce you to the others."  
  
"Okay," was all Tristian had to say to that. Not that there's a lot of different ways to reply to such a thing.  
  
"Most people are by the tree house, so we can go there. We're building a tree house!"  
  
"So I've heard. Sounds fun."  
  
"Yup! You can help. Have you built any tree houses before?"  
  
"Not really, me and my father moved around a lot."  
  
"Oh. Okay. Well, here's our marvelous tree house," Bobby said, making a sweeping hand gesture much like someone presenting a piece of expensive art painted by a now-dead artist. Needless to say, he was proud of their work.  
  
The construction of the tree house was apparently on a break at the moment. Jubilee and Jamie was sitting up in the tree playing a thrilling game of "Paper, Rock, Scissors", and Sam was moping. The reason for his mood was Rahne, who was currently flirting with Roberto. The dark-haired boy had apparently decided to graze the (former) builders with his presence.  
  
"Hey, guys!" Bobby shouted, getting everyone's attention. "This is Tristian. He's new here, and he can . . ." Bobby frowned and turned to Tristian. "What's your power?"  
  
"I can melt metals with my hands," Tristian answered.  
  
"Hi, I'm Jubilee," Jubilee presented herself. "I can shoot fireworks from my hands. And this is Jamie, who can make dupes of himself, Rahne, who's a werewolf, Roberto, who absorbs solar energy to get strong and stuff, and Sam, who can make a kinetic field or something so he can fly and stuff."  
  
"I was gonna do the introductions," Bobby pouted.  
  
"You suck at introductions," Jubilee told him. Bobby pouted some more.  
  
"I do not."  
  
"Yes you do."  
  
"No I don't."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
And so passed another afternoon at Charles Xavier's school for gifted youngsters, where the children have amazing destructive powers mankind had never seen before, but were still children at heart.  
tbc  
-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-  
Disclaimer: Trsitian Lise belongs to dragonhouse50@hotmail.com. X-Men belong to Marvel. And I got my fever from my psychiatry teacher.  
I had an epiphany while I was taking a shower this morning. Two actually. Avocados and shrimps and Pepsi isn't a good and balanced breakfast. And unless I'm completely wrong about it, Scott wasn't filmed using his powers. So, in "Mainstream", he and Kurt -should- be in the same position, as in: no one knows for sure that they're mutants. So, Kurt shouldn't be the only one acting all "People don't know I'm a mutant! Yet!", or maybe Scooter just acted the way he did 'cause that's more IC for him. Or I'm completely wrong. But if I'm not . . . I found a plot-hole, I found a plot-hole! Yayness! I blame it all on the avocado.  
  
Bobby the Builder! *giggles* Uhm, sorry, a personal joke between myself and . . . no one else really, since my friend didn't get the funny part. But if you've ever seen/heard of the kiddie's show "Bob the Builder" you might get part of the joke. Ah well. Bobby in general amuses me. I mean, even his last name, "Drake" is funny. Ya see, that's the Swedish word for "Dragon", only pronounced a little different. And Bobby has a crush on Jubes! 'Bobby and Jubey, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g' . . . Don't ya just love when it all works out? Don't worry, there'll be lots of one-sided romance as well, so I can write love-angst. And I've got a Sam/Rahne/Roberto thing to play with. Rahne and Roberto were -so- flirting in "Retreat"!  
  
Just a little question, am I the only one having issues with Jean's last name? I never learn if it's supposed to be "a" or "e" in her last name. Grr, stupid name. Eh.  
Next time: The Brotherhood boys do their punishment. And the Brotherhood girls watch TV. And no, I'm not obsessed about TV . . . *runs of to watch Spin City while singing on "Fever"* 


End file.
